


Feeling Alive

by KaysKeys



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Byleth has feelings, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Fluff and Smut, Injury Recovery, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Time Skip, Sylvain is a softie but he absolutely fucks, slight mentions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24475819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaysKeys/pseuds/KaysKeys
Summary: Byleth retreats to her father's old quarters after a confrontation with Dimitri goes wrong. She thought it'd be a perfect place to hide from the army, but she's never really out of sight from her favorite skirt-chaser for long.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 15
Kudos: 178





	Feeling Alive

**Author's Note:**

> I've been terribly sick the past few weeks (not with miss 'rona thank goodness) but all of my projects fell behind. 
> 
> Injury care is a favorite trope of mine, and Sylvain is a soft boy.

Byleth’s head crashes against the soft relief of a pillow at the _exact_ second there is a knock at the door. She contemplates her options.

She could let out the frustrated scream that almost bubbles over without her permission at the intrusion. She could throw the nearest object, a book of supernatural occurrences throughout Fodlan’s history, and cuss whoever was on the other side.

She could also make no noise and pretend to be dead. Right now, with her side throbbing and her head splitting, that option was most appealing. It required the least amount of effort after all. Byleth weighed her options for a moment, staring up at the stone ceiling of the captain’s quarters she had scurried off to hide in. Thinking surely _, no one would think to look for me there_.

If Sothis were still here, she would laugh at how naive that thought was.

 _You’re their loving professor. They’re all quite enamored with you_.

Despite every part of her that wants to hide and stay alone in the room, she heaves her head back off the feathered pillow and swings her legs over the side of the bed. She glares a hole into the large wooden door, as though if she thought hard enough the person on the other side would just burst into flames and leave her be.

Perhaps it was Seteth, ever the eagle-visioned advisor, who noticed her slip away and was here to lecture her on rules and etiquette of staying too long in the bathhouse during wartime.

Or maybe Felix, anxious for another round after she pinned him in under 3 minutes this morning.

Marianne might have seen her enter the chapel under the hush of night with a tray of food that would go uneaten and come out with a bleeding side and wanted to check in on her.

All the options of her precious former students flipped in her brain like pages of a book when a voice on the other side chose the page for her.

“Hey, Professor, I know you’re in there.” The piercing split in her head radiated as his painfully cheery voice came from the other side. She pushed off her knees, biting back the groan of pain, and stumbled to the door gracelessly. As she pulled open the door, a tad more aggressively than she probably meant to, she was met with a familiar sight of a towering, lanky soldier, crimson hair alight atop his head, and a dashing smile on his lips leaning against the door frame.

A smile that was rarely genuine. A smile that she saw right through.

“What do you want, Sylvain?” She all but barked at him, leaning against the heavy door more than usual for support.

“Can’t a guy sneak off and find his gorgeous former professor in the dead of night?”

He winked.  
She stared.

“No.” And with that, she started to shut the door. He was quicker than her tonight, long arm extending to brace himself against the door that she felt suddenly too exhausted to move any further. “Sylvain.” She bit back a groan, clenching her eyes shut and breathing through her nose deeply. She was using all of her energy to keep her face stoic, but she wanted to scream as it felt like her side was being split open all over again when she strained against his force. “Can’t you reasonably deduce that I snuck away to these quarters so that I might be alone?” She didn’t like how her voice had a desperate tone to it.

“Of course I can. And I did. But I also know that you sneak up here when you’re hurt and don’t want to bother anyone working the infirmary shifts. So I came to get you patched up.” He shrugged his free shoulder, his other arm not relenting on its push of the door. She blinked at him dumbfounded. “Come on, Professor. Surely you know I pay attention to everything you do.” Though she was sure there was a sincere train of thought, she was too sore and too tired to want to play this dance right now.

“Sylvain, I’m not--” She tried to sputter out but was cut off short by the redhead rolling his eyes dramatically, letting his head fall back before giving one defiant shove of the door. She gave way from surprise and the door crashed into her, rattling her entire body and despite her best efforts to remain neutral, she let out a strangled hiss. “That was dirty.” She gasped out as she clutched her side.

“I’ll only ever be as dirty as you need me to be.” He said with a charming wink as he stepped into the quarters and shut the door behind him. Despite herself, she let out a small laugh, already having mostly forgiven him for the intrusion. _Mostly_.

In all honesty, she didn’t mind his company at all, especially since she woke up. He had done quite a bit of growing while she was gone. “Nice place.” He mused while he dropped his knapsack on the desk that was littered with maps and battalion formations. He carefully stacked them neatly and slid them into a binder that he moved out of the way.

“It was my father’s.” Was what she mustered as she hobbled to his side to see what he was pulling out of the bag. “He rarely used it. Preferred to stay in the barracks with his crew.” He hummed in acknowledgment as he took out some bandages and various bottles. “Seteth offered it to me when I woke up; in case I ever needed a space to get away.” She smiled a little, feeling bad for the animosity she absolutely felt when she thought it was Seteth standing on the other side of the door, imagining him with a stack of reports and purchase orders that needed signing.

“Well I got to say, I’m jealous. It’s so quiet up here I feel like I can hear myself think.” He noted, never looking away from his work. Lucky for her, because Byleth was definitely distracted by the somber calmness in his eyes that starkly contrasted the tension in his jaw. Perhaps it was the exhaustion or the pain clouding her judgment, but boundaries didn’t seem to phase her as she reached up and pressed two fingers against the jaw joint, causing him to freeze and tense further. He slowly shifted to look at her with clear confusion before letting out a sigh of relief at the hum of white magic on her fingers. She felt the muscles relax and, once satisfied, dropped her hand back to her side almost sheepishly.

“Thank you.” His smile was soft and genuine--her favorite one of his. She was rightfully dazzled, as she so often was with all of her former students--at how much they’ve all grown and matured while she slept.

 _While they fought for survival and I was napping on the bottom of the ravine_. She thought bitterly.

“Now, off with your shirt.” His words were cool and confident and, not having even a string of patience for his nonsense tonight, she raised her arm to grab him with the intent of forcibly throwing him from her room when a rush of air and calloused hands wrapped around her wrist. “Too bold?” He asked, unaffected by her swing. Her other hand lifted to swing at him, but he easily caught that one as well and narrowed his eyes when she mashed her teeth together at the surge of pain. “Don’t be cliche and go for the groin, it’s a really tired play.” She glared at him, annoyed at how easily he held her arms when she struggled. She opened her mouth to speak but he shook his head. “I wasn’t coming onto you, Professor.” He explained carefully, keeping an eye on her expressions. “Or does your side just normally do that.” He gestured down and she followed his gaze, noticing the dark red stain leaking through her sweatshirt.

“Oh.” She responded lamely, suddenly at a loss for words.

“Yeah, ‘oh.’” He laughed, the tension lifting from the air as he carefully released her hands, keeping them raised for a second to make sure he didn’t need to fend off any more blows. “Do you have other clothes up here?” He asked, smiling when she nodded. “Great! Let me just get this stuff ready and you can change into something not soaked in blood.” He turned back to his medical supplies, a relief again for Byleth because she was hoping he wouldn’t see the red tint painting her face. She felt terribly embarrassed by her over-reaction. She could almost hear the impish snicker from Sothis in the back of her throbbing head. She nodded despite him not looking at her then limped to the dresser to grab a new top.

While it wasn’t her favorite in terms of comfortable sleepwear, she carefully pulled off her sweater and pulled on her black knit crop top that she wore for weight training. At least this would keep some of her dignity with this whole debacle and expose enough skin for him to work.

When she turned back around, she was almost surprised to see Sylvain staring straight ahead, cotton and vials in hand. Of all the excuses she expected him to use to see her topless, he was being incredibly respectful.

It was endearing.

She cleared her throat a little, suddenly feeling nervous. “The coast is clear.” He turned, smiling at the familiar top before his eyes settled to where her hands were pressed against the reopened wound, bleeding a little through her fingers. He met her halfway to her bed and extended his elbow for support, which she eagerly took.

“So was the plan to bleed out in your sleep, or…?” He asked in a conversational, but also tense voice as he helped her sit on the bed and kneel in front of her. Blyeth’s breath suddenly felt stuck in her throat at the sight. They were practically the same height at the position and she was almost lost in the swirls of colors in his eyes. Was Sylvain always so handsome?

“I healed it plenty.” She countered easily, leaning back on her elbows a bit to give him better access and to give her mind some space. “Someone shoved a door into it.” she reminded him with a roll of her eyes.

"Sure, sure." he hummed as his nimble fingers worked the wet rag on the tender wound. She left her fall head back and stared up at the ceiling as he worked, trying to understand some of her more scattered thoughts at his closeness. She’s been close to men and women before, so why does her pulse feel like it’s echoing in the room as his fingers touch her skin? Is it because of his reputation, of his relentless flirting at her expense? Or the way he was always a distraction in lectures with his wild innuendos and implications? _Or maybe_ , she thought with a small sigh, _maybe it’s because of how well behaved he’s being right now. How gentle he is and how carefully he’s taking care of me._

"I appreciate what you're doing," He said coolly as he finished cleaning the blood off of her skin. She gave him a quizzical look. "Protecting Dimitri the way you are." She hated how her body tensed reflexively at hearing his name.

He was her former student. Her old friend. Her would-be king.

And also her biggest threat.

"I didn't do anything." She tried to protest weakly. He smiled sadly as he laced a needle and thread with practiced hands.

"Exactly. You could have gone running to any person in the army about what he did to you and it would be a bloodbath when they inevitably confronted him." He didn't expand on that thought, but Byleth knew Felix would be the hot-headed swordsman to go after Dimitri’s head if he knew he had swung Areadbhar at her the way he did.

"He didn't mean it." She all but mumbled, not trusting the sadness in her voice. In her heart, she knew Dimitri was in there. Her tormented but gentle prince was buried alive under the ghosts of his traumas. "The last thing he needs is something else to regret when he snaps out of it." She winced as Sylvain started the stitch by her hip. The wound was larger than she remembered when she haphazardly attempted to heal it in the bathhouse.

"I know he's in there." Having never heard it said out loud, Byleth found herself surprised at his admission. "It's hard seeing him like this. Especially when I can't chew him out for his stupid mistakes." His jaw tightened again and Byleth finally fit some puzzle pieces in her mind.

"You were in the chapel?" She asked, looking up at the ceiling again as he worked quickly through the stitches. She never did have an eye for watching them done to her.

"With Joffrey." He agreed. Still looking up at the ceiling, her head tilted a little in confusion. She didn't think anyone went to see Joffrey and the statues of the Four Saints besides her and possibly Flayn. "He used to work for House Gautier. I looked to him a lot growing up; he always tells the best stories. Him and Margrave Gautier got into a pretty heated argument about the treatment of my brother." Byleth bit her cheek to avoid asking why Sylvain referred to his father in such a disconnected way. She had to remind herself that not everyone was fortunate to have Jeralt at their side.

Not everyone had a father worth missing.

“I thought Miklan was the one tortuing you?” She asked quietly, trying to bury the memory of Sylvain standing over the dissolved monstrous remains of the demonic beast. Lance of Ruin pulsating to life when he picked it up, like a cursed shackle attached to him. She clenched her teeth at the memory of the strangled gasp he let out when Miklan transformed.

“Oh he was.” The sad laughter in his voice surprised her, but she supposed he’s had several years to cope with the memory whereas for her it seemed like just a few months ago. “But Joffrey was trying to get the Margrave to see that it was his own treatment and abandonment of Miklan that made him the way he was. Miklan wasn’t born a monster; the weight of being a Crestless son in a land that places their value above the individual lead him there. Joffrey was chewing him out about the active role he was playing in the destruction of Miklan’s humanity. Needless to say, it did not go well.” Byleth’s mind wandered, as it often did, to crests and the mysteries that they held. Yes, they were indicative of power, but the fact that a father would abandon his son the way Margrave Gautier did over an uncontrollable variable in a person’s genetics was so foreign to her.

She found herself understanding a little more just why Jeralt worked so hard to keep her out of this life.

"So he came to Garreg Mach." She finished for him, hissing as he poked her in a tender spot with the needle. He mumbled an apology quietly but kept working diligently. "Dimitri didn't…go after you, did he?" she asked, suddenly nervous as her eyes raked over his body looking for damage. He smiled sadly at her skin, unable to meet her eyes as she assessed him.

"Nah. I know better than to poke the feral prince at this point." She grimaced at the harsh, but accurate, description of his old friend. "Besides, that's just another round of ammunition when I dutifully kick his ass for his behavior when he snaps out of it." She laughed once, her stomach hitting Sylvain’s hand a little more as she moved.

"He's going to have so much to atone for." She agreed. "But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited to get in him in the training yard for some payback." She loved the genuine laugh that came from him as he tied off the stitches. She was impressed with his handiwork and, as though reading her thoughts, Sylvain traced his fingers over the tight stitches.

"Between Miklan attempting to gut me at every opportunity and having the Fradlarius brothers as training partners, I learned pretty quickly how to patch myself up." Despite the sadness of his brother still looming over his head, they both smiled. She often forgot that Sylvain was friends with Glenn as well. He was so close with Felix it was easy to forget how many years he had on them. It must have been hard losing Glenn the way he had--helpless to do anything to stop it. “Not to mention a habit of pissing off my best friend with amazing aim and, of course, training with an ancient bloodline that activates without any real rhyme or reason.” She couldn’t help but giggle as she remembered all the times Sylvain said something stupid in class only to be hit with pinpoint accuracy from across the room as Ingrid threw whatever object was closest to her at his skull. She even smiled at the memories of pairing Sylvain up with Dimitri for calvary work, only to have to double order their training weapons that Dimitri tore through like butter.

"While I'm sad you were in that position, I must say you do amazing work." His face seemed to flush a little at the praise, just as it did during private lessons.

It was _cute_.

Byleth leaned her head back again to avoid staring at his features. She understood more than ever how easy it was for women to fall for Sylvain as quickly as they did. She'd be lying if she denied that his charm and devilish handsome features could have an effect on everyone. Hell, she saw everyone fall for parts of his charm at some point or another. Even stoic Dedue, who was so caught off guard when Sylvain came to him and explained why he believed the Duscur people innocent in the regicide.

Lost in thought, Byleth let out a small moan of relief as warm fingers were pressed against the wound. Her face was hot at the unconscious noise she made, but when she realized _why_ the noise escaped her, she sat up so suddenly that the tingling pressure disappeared. She grabbed at her side, gaping in shock at the mostly healed skin, stitches almost fully dissolved.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Sylvain muttered in response to her reaction. "I should've warned you." she stared up at him, mouth still parted in awe.

"You just used white magic," She stated as her fingers continued to rub over the almost healed wound.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly under the intensity of her stare.

"Come on, Professor. You've seen me use magic before" He tried to point out, but she was already reacting before she could process it. She was lunging forward with such force that he was almost thrown back at an awkward angle. He recovered quickly, his arms wrapping around her waist to steady them both from the rather clumsy display of emotion as Byleth hugged him tightly. Tears pricked at her eyes as she gripped him, her face burying into his neck, one hand slipping into his hair to hold him somehow closer.

"You've used reason before. Expertly, I might add." She mumbled into his neck, relishing as he rubbed her back just a little. "I couldn’t get you to cast so much as a heal after lectures. You had such an aversion to it." She realized that she was now hiding her face in his neck more out of embarrassment and she was not wanting to deal with whatever teasing would come when she pulled back and he saw the flush on her cheeks. But she couldn’t control herself. The emotions overwhelmed her so suddenly that she acted purely on the instinct to be near him.

She was amazed at Sylvain right now. Floored, once more, at just how much he's grown over the past five years.

"Yeah, well, I guess you have Mercie to thank for that. She's one hell of a teacher." it was irrational and she knew it--but she couldn't stop the twinge of something in her stomach at his words.

Byleth should have been one to teach him.  
She should've been here.

"You've had to grow so much." She whispered in a strangled breath. His arms wrapped around her more fully, sensing the change within her to hold her more securely.

"It's okay" He cooed to her, crushing her against him as she tearlessly sobbed against him. They stayed like that for a long moment, probably a little from embarrassment and a little from a desire to never move apart.

"Thank you." She croaked out, pulling back to rub at her eyes that were still burning. She stopped as she felt his hand brush hers away to wipe the tears that didn’t fall from her cheek.

“I should thank you. For not going for the groin.” The gentle voice combined with his trademark wink made Byleth laugh loudly. She couldn’t help but appreciate what he was doing, what he was always doing, for her. He was making her feel human. Before she could properly respond, however, he pulled himself up to his feet and gathered the bloodied materials beside her and started collecting his things.

A wave of emotion pulsed through her at the sight and she stood up just as quickly from the instinct. She was suddenly so nervous as she watched him get ready to leave. Nervous that he was going to leave her alone with the thoughts that had been plaguing her every night since she woke up. Nervous that she had feelings she didn’t understand and how desperately she wanted him to explain them to her.

“You know, if you wanted to thank me, all you have to do is accept my invitation to dinner sometime.” He teased as he zipped up his pack. He turned, probably ready to throw another wink her way but froze when he realized how close she was. “Uh, hey Professor. You should be careful sneaking up on me like that. I am a seasoned warrior after all.” He winked, trying to hide the redness in his cheeks at her proximity.

“Sylvain…” Something in her voice was shaky as she said his name and she watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Anything.” His response was immediate and it made her stomach flip.

“Will you kiss me?” The words tumbled out faster than she intended and they even caught her off guard. Normally, she’d have had several hours of debate and planning for a situation like this. She’d weigh her options as well as the pros and cons and all the possible situations that this could play out as.

But him being here made her want to throw all of that out the window. Sylvain made her feel something--something positive amongst all the death, destruction and lost time she was facing.

Sylvain stuttered at the question, which made Byleth smile just a little. “Professor...I mean--listen, I didn’t do this so that you would--” He continued to sputter and Byleth felt the sinking feeling plummet to the floorboards. She’d heard of it, she’d even seen it happen to people like Sylvain, but the feeling of rejection stung a lot more than she was prepared for.

“Sylvain, stop.” She said with almost a laugh. She lifted her hand to cup his cheek and focused on keeping her voice steady. “I would never want to do anything you didn’t want to do.” His eyes widened a little as she spoke. “You’ve been so kind to me since I came back and I just had this feeling...these feelings that are so intense.” It was her turn to openly turn red, she gnawed on her bottom lip, missing the way that Sylvain’s eyes tracked the movement. Byleth was rightfully mortified, but oddly without regret for asking. Sure, she could Divine Pulse back and pretend this never happened, and Sothis might even support the ‘frivolous’ use of the power to avoid that embarrassment but asking felt oddly invigorating. It made her feel human. “Thank you for taking care of me.” She finished and pulled back, not wanting to draw out him feeling uncomfortable at the advances.

She turned towards the dresser, ready to grab a different nightshirt when a hand tugged on her arm with enough force that she suddenly found herself crashing into his chest. She looked up, stunned at the force of his movement as hungered eyes were boring into hers. Her arm was tugged awkwardly behind him, so her other hand had rested on his chest to steady herself.

“Don’t.” He whispered, her insides flipping at the warmth of his breath on her face. It was such a comforting feeling and she had to focus to keep her eyes open rather than lose herself entirely in it. “Don’t ever imply that there’s a situation where I _don't_ want to kiss you.” If her heart could beat, it would be drumming as loud as canons in the room. Her pulse was throbbing in her ears and she swallowed thickly when she realized he could feel it through her skin with his tight grip.

“But--” She blinked up at him dumbly.

“I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage.” His voice was slightly strangled, licking his bottom lip. “I wasn’t trying to pull anything. Not with you.” For a moment, Byleth remembered their moment in the Goddess Tower all those years ago--the way he had followed her out of some sort of jealousy about who was winning her affections. About how he never regretted his actions until she turned him down. “I don’t want you to kiss me because you think you owe me. Or as thanks. I haven’t been that person in a long time.”

“I know that.” She said firmly at the memory of the butterflies in her stomach that night.

“I had such a hard time when you were gone.” He admitted, surprising her. “War keeps you busy, sure. But, knowing that I never had the chance to apologize for that last conversation before I--we lost you...” He shook his head a little, as though to shake off the memory. “I still want to be at your side. That has never changed. Even after all this time.” She felt a little dizzy at his confession, a little overwhelmed.

“I’m sorry that this is still so difficult for me. Feelings like this...they’ve been so intense ever since the void.” Her eyes burned again but for entirely different reasons than earlier. “Maybe it wasn’t the right time to ask.” She offered weakly.

“Ask me again.” He whispered, pulling her arm just a tug more to bring her somehow closer to him. “Now that you know for certain that this is the only place I want to be. That I’m not playing a game. Ask me again.” He all but begged through shallow breaths.

Perhaps a person more skilled at handling their emotions would hesitate, but Byleth was never one for fighting against her instincts.

“Will you kiss me, Sylvain?” She had barely managed to get the question out before soft, warm lips pressed against hers with a desperate pressure. Her eyes fluttered shut at the contact as she pushed up onto her toes to lock more fully against him. She was glad he was leaning against the desk, otherwise, her neck would already be straining from his height. Fingers tangled in her hair to hold her more securely as his head twisted for better access. She shuddered at the feeling, letting out a little gasp against his lips through a smile. That seemed to drive him a little crazy, because his hand released her arm and wrapped around her waist snug and assured. She giggled a little at the contact, allowing him a chance to swipe a tentative taste against her lips. Eager to feel more of the somersaults that caused, she parted her lips and granted him access.

All of her ideas about what kissing Sylvain would be like were dangerously correct. His taste, his skill, his warmth. She had scolded herself on more than one occasion for letting her mind wander to him back when he was her student. But now, all of her daydreams paled in comparison to what he actually felt like against her. She could kiss him forever, she was sure if she didn’t need to breathe. She pulled back for a second to catch her breath, but Sylvain seemed just as desperate to not let this moment end as she was. The fingers in her hair tightened and he jerked her head back to expose her neck that he peppered with kisses, seemingly trying to memorize any inch of her.

The force was not unwelcome at all and she was immediately thankful that he wasn’t treating her as though she were fragile. So much so that a small moan bubbled out easily. He stuttered in his trails down her neck and slowed, leaving fiery heat wherever he was. He rose back up, peppering little pecks the whole way before pressing against her lips again.

“It’s...easy to get carried away.” His voice was husky and strained against her lips. He was trying to sound collected, but he was burning alive in front of her.

“Sure is.” Byleth agrees as her fingers lay trails across the planes of his chest. She’s suddenly obsessed with the way his body feels and can’t help herself but to wonder and want for more. She moves assuredly to the hem of his shirt and brushes her fingers along the tightening muscles of the skin there. She relished in the noise that escaped him and pressed against his skin more fully, feeling the faded scar lines littering his body.

“H-hey--” Sylvain started, hand tightening in her hair again as she continued to memorize him.

“Do you want me to stop?” She asked seriously but was too selfish to stop while she waited for his answer. If he wanted her to stop, she’d pull away without any hard feelings and apologize.

“No.” He answers breathlessly. “I don’t.” They both let out strangled laughs at the honesty.

“If I told you that I didn’t want to stop either...That I trust you more than anything else in this war...that I just want to be selfish for one night...would you judge me terribly for it?” She lightly grazed her nails down his chest, noting with excitement how sensitive his nipples seemed.

“Professor--”

“Byleth.” She practically begs. “If you’re going to turn me down, at least call me by my name.” She gave him a gentle smile, hoping to convey her thoughts that he could turn her down and it didn’t mean there had to be any bad blood between them.

“Byleth…” He seemed conflicted, but Byleth stayed focused on his chest, not wanting to pry or push a decision out of him. He was always a student that benefited from finding his own answer to the problem without any guidance. “I just don’t want you to have regrets.” His whisper echoes in the room.

“I would never regret being here with you, Sylvain.” Her answer is assured and decisive with a firmer scratch down his chest, causing his head to roll back for a moment.

“You have to promise to tell me if you want me to stop.” She smirks at his terms and nods eagerly, looking up to his darkened eyes. The hand around her waist tightens and she shivers with a smile at the pleasure. The hand in her hair tugged back again, forcing her lips up against his. “Promise me.” He commands, sending another ripple of pleasure straight to her core. He wasn’t taking any chances with her consent, which made him all the more alluring.

“I promise.” She says, pushing up again to kiss him. “Now, please. Don’t make me beg.” She bats her eyelashes and realizes by the size of Sylvain’s pupils that there might be nothing more he’d like than to hear that from her. Sylvain moves fast--faster than she was expecting, spinning them around and bending down to lift her onto her desk. He was still taller than her in this position, but neither of them cared when his hot mouth found hers again. There was no restraint from Sylvain this time, his hands running up and down her sides while Byleth’s fingers snaked around to his back to pull him closer. He reached between them to pry her thighs open so he could stand between them and she was surprised at the sigh that came out of her at the simple motion.

His lips trailed down her neck again, occasionally nipping and biting at the sensitive skin in his wake. He pulled her high collar out of the way for better access and let out a surprising groan when Byleth’s nails raked firmly down his back. She realized with almost giddy energy that there was no need to worry about being too loud in these quarters and was thanking Sothis in all her glory that they were not muting to avoid detection from Dedue. The excitement invigorated her, pulling her hands away to start unbuttoning his shirt, feeling him smile against her skin.

The buttons were done quickly and he pulled back just for a moment so he could shrug it off of his shoulders. Byleth couldn’t help but gazing openly at his toned body, littered with scars, some much older than others. She started to trace all of the different patterns and though they were both eager, Sylvain let her--just as mesmerized watching her. He noticed the small frown at the particularly large and recent scar bubbled in his upper pectoral. Ailell had been particularly ruthless and Sylvain had appeared seemingly from nowhere to block a thrust from a silver lance meant for her. She had been distraught, prepared to rewind the clock but he carried on the fight as though it was nothing to be worried about.

It wasn’t until she found him upon their return to Garreg Mach attempting to bandage his own arm that she saw just how damaging the hit must have been.

Sylvain covered her hand with his own, bringing it up to his lips to press a gentle kiss against her knuckles.

“I told you. A badge of honor.” He reiterated firmly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” Emotion swelled in her throat at the words--the ones that she always found herself saying to her former students and friends. Sylvain didn’t have a Divine Pulse, he couldn’t promise to keep her safe the way she tried to.

But maybe, Sylvain would protect her while she was protecting everyone else. And maybe, more importantly, it was okay to rely on him in that way.

“Bed.” She all but commanded, wrapping her hand around his neck to pull him in for a kiss. He smirked against her lips, hands hooking under her thighs to lift her up. She was surprised at how effortless it seemed to be for him. Her legs wrapped around his waist and with a giggle, she let him carry her and drop her carefully on the bed. He crawled on top of her, using this new position to get better access to her skin. His fingers grazed the hem of her shirt and he pulled away with a questioning gaze. She nodded and propped herself up, again thankful that Sylvain had healed most of the wound on her stomach.

He was terribly gentle as he lifted the shirt over her head, smirking when she heard his labored breathing when her breasts tumbled out. He tossed the shirt to the other end of the room before eagerly grabbing them in his hands. They both laughed a little at the feeling.

“You know, these were always terribly distracting in class.” He said as he peppered kisses around the mounds, his lips always just missing the areas she wanted him most.

“Take it up with Sothis.” She said with a laugh. “They’ve always been in the way.” She lets out a sharp moan when his teeth finally graze her nipple, tongue flicking out to soothe it immediately.

“I’ll have to thank her myself then.” He mumbles against her skin, using his hand to massage her neglected breast while he sucked and nipped. While her chest had never been terribly sensitive, something about it tonight was driving her wild.

Well, not something--someone.

“Byleth?” He asked as he switched to the other breast. She hummed while breathing deeply, trying to memorize the way he smelled of Bergamont and leather. “Have you ever done this before?” There’s no judgment or jealousy in his voice, just genuine curiosity that Byleth appreciates.

“Once.” She admits, moaning when Sylvain bites and sucks particularly hard on the underside of her breast--she can feel it will leave a mark and the thought thrills her. “Before I started at Garreg Mach. A new kid among my father’s men. He said it would help me on the field.” To her surprise, Sylvain’s grip on her hip tightened and she realized maybe there was some jealousy there after all. “Obviously that’s not a thing. It was over just as quickly as it started, and my father ran him off the next day when he found out.” They both share a little laugh at the image of Jeralt instilling the fear of the Goddess into the young man.

“So he didn’t take care of you first?” He asked warily.

“No.” She answers simply, knowing he must be referring to having an orgasm. She had read the approved book in the library about sex education when she got here, wanting to be prepared for any question her students might have.

“I could kill him myself.” He leans back, running a hand through his tangled hair, eyes hungry as he raked in her slightly heaving chest from all the attention. “You do everything for everyone else. Let me take care of you tonight.” It was terribly sweet, his concern for her pleasure. She nods eagerly, for once not minding all the experience Sylvain has had if it means him making her feel as good as she thinks he will.

He bends back down, leaving kisses down to her belly button, his fingers trailing the hem of her shorts. He leaves a long kiss over the slightly scarred injury he had treated, glancing up at her to wait for her nod.

He pulls down her shorts easily enough, smiling when she helps him kick them off. Before she can ask why he left her panties on, his thumb grazes over the damp fabric there. She blushes hard as a strangled gasp escapes her, embarrassed at how the simple motion made her feel.

He’s patient as he kisses around the dip of her hips, skipping her core to leave hot kisses around her thighs. She’s so distracted by his stubble against her sensitive skin that she bucks unconsciously when his finger slides past the fabric and rubs up and down her slit. She mumbles an apology and all but whines when Sylvain lifts away from her.

“Don’t apologize for how you feel.” There’s more bite and meaning behind his words than she’s prepared for and for a moment, Byleth blinks dumbly at him. She’s done it before, she realizes at that moment. When something is hard for her to understand or when she acts out in a certain way, she always apologizes for burdening others with her feelings. So many of them are all so new to her that she can’t help but feel like a pest when they bubble over. He slides back up her body so he can press a warm kiss against her lips, surprisingly chaste. “I don’t want you to hold back with me.”

His finger dips into her gently as he swallows her moans. Her walls clench around him for just a moment at the intrusion before relaxing so that he could push deeper into her. She kisses Sylvain with a desperate edge when a second finger pushes into her, his hand twisting so that his thumb can rub against her most sensitive bud. This time, he pulls away to hear and see her moan loudly from the buzz.

“Oh! That’s--” She stutters, unsure at why she feels compelled to react verbally at all. He sucks gently on her earlobe while rolling his thumb, relishing in the way her hips buck, forcing his fingers in deeper. He sucks on a sensitive spot behind her ear while his hand works her up. “Syl--” She cuts off again when he presses just a little harder on the nub when she moans his name. She feels something rising within her, something she never came close to feeling during her one and only escapade and for a moment she’s terribly embarrassed. “Ahh--that’s--I don’t think--” She’s not sure what she’s trying to say but Sylvain hushes her with another kiss, his tongue rubbing against hers, the taste-making her head spin.

“Just relax, By.” He whispers against her skin, sending a chill down her spine. “I’m here, I got you. I’m not going anywhere.” His words, though nothing but sincere and genuine, stir an even filthier reaction out of her body, her back arching into him more.

“It’s just a lot…” She gasps out, the knot in her lower abdomen clenching so tight that she feels she might burst entirely. Her breathing becomes more erratic as his fingers work her with skilled precision, all the while his lips leaving hot trails over her skin. When her moans become more desperate, Sylvain increases the tempo and presses his fingers against her walls in such a new way that she can’t help the shriek she lets out.

“There it is, By.” He coos against her. “You can let go, I’ve got you.” That’s all it takes for her to shudder and buck against him, her ears ringing as white light blinds her for just a moment. He doesn’t relent, choosing to ride her out through her entire orgasm, only stopping when she slumps completely against the bed.

“That was---I mean, I’ve never--” She feels like she’s just run a marathon by the way she’s breathing, but her body is the most at ease it’s been in months--years actually.

“If there was a way I could burn that image into my brain, I would.” He says with his own shaky breath, kissing her again. “You’re so beautiful.” Despite everything tonight, she flushes at the compliment, deepening the kiss so she doesn’t instinctually turn away from him. It’s then she notices the rather obvious warm pressing against her thigh and with a surge of freeing energy, she rolls them over easily, straddling his waist easily. “By, we can stop if you want.” He offers weakly, trying not to roll his own head back at the way her warmth and weight feel against his member.

“I want…” She struggles, words have never been her strong suit in personal moments. “More.” She finishes lamely, grinding against him purposely. He moans loudly and the feeling immediately tightens her core again. She leaves her own trail of kisses on his skin, returning the favor of his attention to detail on her. She kisses every scar, soft apologies for the ones she couldn’t prevent, for the ones he had to take to protect his people, for the ones he took while she was gone. Her fingers tweak his nipples and he moans again, invigorating Byleth to gently suck one between her lips, teeth grazing over it.

She was delighted to hear his desperate gasps and couldn’t help but feel proud that she was the one making him like this. She continued south, feeling the way his stomach tightens as she passes. When she’s at his belly button, her fingers move to deftly undo the ties of his trousers, proud of herself for not shaking as she did so. She would willingly admit to having no practical experience in what she was attempting to do, but she’d read enough literature and heard enough stories that she felt ready for whatever this might be like.

She lifts off of him enough to pull his trousers and briefs down in one smooth motion, his body jerking with an instinct to want to cover himself from the cooler air of the room. Byleth knew she was gaping, but she didn’t care as she took in his sizeable member, the tip glistening with pre-cum from all of his ministrations. She could feel his eyes on her and perhaps hear the bubble of words in his throat.

You don’t have to do this. She knew he would say, which encouraged her to reach out and gently grip his hardened member, relishing in how silky smooth the skin was, despite its hardened state.

“Fuck.” Sylvain whispers as her featherlight touch attempts to memorize him in all his glory. She traces one particular vein up to his tip and uses her thumb to swirl the wetness around. The string of curses that follows forces Byleth to look up, worried she’d hurt him in some way. He doesn’t say anything coherent, rather reaches down to grip her hand tighter and move in a slow, deliberate pace up and down. He’s guiding her, showing her just how he likes to have this done and with how much force. Byleth, ever the fast learner, catches on quickly, using the pressure to increase her pace so that he’s writhing beneath her.

Unable, or perhaps unwilling, to control herself, Byleth leans down and licks his tip, ever curious at what he tastes like. He jerks and one hand immediately finds its way into her hair, holding back a chunk of it from falling in her face at the angle.

“You...fuck By...you don’t have to--” She cut him off purposely as she wrapped her lips fully around him and took him into her mouth slowly, cautiously, but deliberately. His fingers tighten again in her hair and she can feel him holding back. She’s beyond curious to see what it takes for that facade to crumble and break beneath her. She pulls back, sucking his tip and swirling her tongue before releasing him with a pop, her hands still making work of him.

“Don’t hold back on my account.” She’s surprised at how utterly wrecked she sounds. “I want all of you.” She reiterates before taking him as deep as her throat will allow. She pauses to exhale and relax her gag reflex and hums around him. Encouraged, he thrusts up into her, his hands tightening and pulling her hair just a little harder.

“Fuck, By--” He cusses again. “I need--I want--” She pulls back, sucking his sensitive tip one last time before sitting back up and rolling her hips against his.

“Then take it.” That does it entirely for Sylvain; he flips them over and nearly rips down her briefs to throw them behind himself, eyeing her still glistening sex. He leans down and gives her no warning before his tongue licks her folds. She can’t help the lewd moan as she bucks against his face. His sharp tongue enters and dances inside of her with a practiced skill that she can’t even fathom. As though all of his previous escapades were leading up to taking care of her. She can feel the feeling rising in her once more. But Byleth wants nothing more than to feel him in his entirety. “Sylvain, please.” She begs, tugging his head up to her face.

“Ever eager.” He teases, but his voice is just as just wanting as hers. He lines himself up with her entrance and luckily doesn’t waste time asking her what she wants,, perhaps finally believing that she wants to be sharing this moment with him. They both let out loud moans as he presses into her, the pressure a delightful sensation for both of them.

As he enters her completely to the hilt, they share a moment of gazing at each other in their lusted fog.

“That feels...amazing.” She offers as she lifts her hips, desperate to increase the friction. His pace started carefully slow, the feeling of their bodies almost overwhelming for both of them, But any uncomfortable amount of pressure gave way to the most filling sensation Byleth had ever experienced. As soon as Sylvain felt the change, his pace turned punishing. His hands gripping her waist with such and hips snapping with such vigor that the loud sounds of skin slapping echoed in the room.

“Ah, Byleth.” His chest vibrates from his low growl. Byleth is mesmerized with the sheen of sweat on his forehead and his red hair tangled from their rolling around.

“Again.” She gasps out, matching his pace with as much fervor. He tilts his head a little, a little too focused on his breathing to verbalize. “Say my name. Again.” She clarifies and moans when Sylvain reaches between them to rub circles against her clit again causing her to scream from the intense pleasure.

“Byleth.” He moans, his voice barely more than a growl. “Byleth, Byleth, Byleth…” He chants, relishing in the way her own moans echo with each call of her name. Her name is decidedly the greatest sound from his lips and Byleth realizes she wants nothing more in that moment than to hear him call her it every day. Her eyes swell with emotion at the realization.

“No one...ever says my name.” She gasps with a choked sob. It causes Sylvain to slow his pace and remove his hand from her sensitive sex so he can intertwine his fingers with hers.

“Byleth...you’ve had to hold so much of this army on your back.” He kisses her sweetly on the lips before kissing the tear that slipped down her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll follow you past the gates of Hell.”

In a flash, Byleth sees glimpses of her time with Sylvain over her time at Garreg Mach. The first time he trains with her in the grounds, the time he sits with her when the other faculty and students were too nervous about the outsider in her first few weeks, the way his rage heightened the flames in the Knights Hall when he’d been thinking about being part of the group to hunt down Miklan. (The same day she realized his budding talent for reason magic)

She sees him in battle, never too far from her line of sight. Always an extension of her sword arm, never doubting her orders despite their differences or his growing resentment of her past.

She sees him when she wakes from a five year slumber she did not ask for, eyes wiser and a little colder from her time gone. But just as before, he fights with a disciplined mastery at her orders, powerful and focused. He fights closer to her, not willing to let her out of his sight again.

“Don’t leave me to do this by myself.” She commands as she starts to push up against him again. He answers with hard thrusts.

“Never.” His vow is simple, but etched in powerful stone to her. His hand finds her clit again and she gasps.

“Sylvain--I can’t--” She tries to explain, moaning into his mouth when he sucks on her lip.

“That’s it, By.” He coos. “Finish for me.” His gravelly voice almost undoes her immediately. Her hips stutter in their rhythm.

She finishes with his name loud in her throat.

She doesn’t pause in her motions despite her overstimulated sex, she rakes her nails hard down his back and his moan from the pain excites her.

“Should I--I can’t--” He tries to ask. Byleth wraps her legs around his hips and lifts so he can reach even deeper inside of her and leans up to bite down on his neck as an answer. He gasps and stutters, his warm seed filling her. The feeling is blissful and somewhere in the back of her mind, she realizes how selfish it was to have him finish in her when Crest babies are his nightmare. But she’s been drinking her herbal tea every day since she became a woman and he had nothing to worry about.

All of that is what she should have said, but the exhaustion from their tryst robs her of her voice. He stays in her for a long moment while he pants into her neck. Her arms wrap tightly around his shoulders, burying herself in him. After a long moment, he pulls free from her and they both let out a sigh as he pulls out of her. She doesn’t let him get far, pulling him down next to her so that she can burrow against his chest. His strong arms wrap around her when he presses a long kiss against her hair.

“Stop that.” She commands against his chest when she feels the tension start to build in him. He hums in response and she pulls back to look up at him directly in his soft eyes. “Stop overthinking. I have no regrets. I’m so thankful you’re here. And I don’t want you to leave.” Her words envelop him in a sense of calm and she watches as that beautiful smile covers his face. He presses his lips against hers for just a moment.

“I hope you realize that you won’t be able to get rid of me easily.” He teases with a gentle twinkle in his eyes.

“I won’t be trying very hard.” She says with a laugh as she snuggles back against him. He raises his hand and snaps, the light of the candles disappearing into his fingers.

She falls asleep to a heartbeat that feels like it could be hers from this point on.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this during a fever dream and I'm bad at editing so I'm sorry for any mistakes but here just take it


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